Mary Alice Brandon: A Life of Loneliness and Pain
by Shadow Enigma
Summary: Born on a cursed night with very superstitious parents, anything could happen to poor Mary...
1. Chapter 1

Mary Alice Brandon: A Life of Loneliness and Pain

**Halloween: 1903**

He could hear his wife's labored screams through the thick wooden door. The night was cloudy, with a strong wind whistling through the trees. All the children were in their homes by now, it was nearing midnight. Why couldn't his first child be born on a different day? He and his wife were told by the priests that a child born on this day would be a child of Satan. He couldn't let that happen, the small town they lived in would be mortified. An evil, demon child in their midst. He could just imagine what the neighbors would say. The only thing was, he couldn't do anything about it.

He heard the bells begin to toll as the time grew closer to midnight. If only his wife could hold on until after the bells quit tolling, then their child wouldn't be born on this cursed night. The bells tolled closer; nine, ten, eleven...

A baby's cry sounded through the night as the clock struck twelve. The man grew pale. His first and only child, born at midnight on Halloween. A cursed night, at the witching hour.

Mary Alice Brandon had been born.


	2. Chapter 2

Mary Alice Brandon: A Life of Loneliness and Pain

February 1905

I looked at my beautiful daughter, she had just turned two a few months ago. She had fine jet black hair, and amazing blue-green eyes. Her laugh could make the whole world smile. I watched her play with the other children while we, the mothers, were sewing.

They thought I couldn't here how they were talking about my little Mary, but I did. She had been born on a cursed night, at the witching hour. She was doomed to be blamed for all things bad happening in the town. She would be whispered about for the rest of her life, no one caring how she felt. She would be mocked for the rest of her life, but I loved her.

I looked into the crib at my right and saw my little baby boy. He had been born in August, John Andrew Brandon. You could already tell he was going to be a bright and beautiful boy. One with a strong back who would make his father proud, unlike little Mary. I looked at the clock on the mantle, almost four o'clock. Time to go home and cook for my family.

I told my friends goodbye, and left Mary trailing along behind me. She suddenly stood rigid, her eyes clouding over. She said one word to me and kept moving. She said Brober, her name for John. I dismissed her actions as just a little trick she wanted to play on me, and headed home.

I was just about to open the door when a pair of large rough hands grabbed me from behind. "Give me all your money and jewelry." a deep, growling voice said.

I started to remove my brooch and necklace, when I heard a car coming up the road behind me. The man heard it too. He yanked off my necklace, making me fall over in the progress. John flew out of my hands, into Mary's. She looked at me with a "I told you something was going to happen." look.

From that moment on I knew something was strange about my little Mary.


	3. Chapter 3

Mary Alice Brandon: A Life of Loneliness and Pain

1909

Our little Mary was six now, her brother four. I was pregnant again, Mary said it was a girl, and I believed her. She told everyone little things like that. The town still thought she was an evil demon sent to destroy us all, she probably was. We had kept her out of school, locked in her bedroom. We would go in only to give her food and take out the dirty dishes. Mary's eyes were always clouded over, her hair a tangled mess. Her clothes were ripped and shredded, hanging off her thin, pale frame, barely covering her. I sat by the fireplace, rocking and knitting. My third child would be born at the end of this year, Cynthia.

I heard a loud 'thump' form behind the locked door. Mary was having another attack. She said her mind was filled with 'visions' that corrupted her, made her think evil thoughts. She would be on the floor by now, clawing at her clothes and the floor. She started shrieking like a banshee, and I heard the wallpaper tearing off the walls. She had a pencil in her room, a short stubby one. She would sometimes draw pictures on the paper she tore off the walls. The room was littered with them. When we brought her food we had to be careful not to look upon them. If we did, the priest said we would be cursed like Mary with the evil visions.

Suddenly all the noise stopped. I heard Mary fall to the floor, exhausted from what she had just gone through. Why did my child have to be like this, cursed? I put the thoughts out of my mind and went back to my knitting, a beautiful sweater for my new daughter, just waiting to be born.


	4. Chapter 4

**Mary Alice Brandon: A Life of Loneliness and Pain**

1909

A beam of light fell through the thick curtains onto the dirty wood floor. I tried to focus on it, but the voices wouldn't let me. The voices were always there, telling me little things that would happen, but they controlled my mind.

My vision got misty, and I couldn't see. I knew what was happening. The pictures were coming. With the pictures came pain; I understood why my parents locked me up in here. I fell to the floor, the pictures beginning to come.

I clawed at the floor, my hair my clothes, anything to make the pain stop. I saw my parents, my new sister, a dark void. The pictures started coming faster and faster, I couldn't see all of them. Tears rolled down my face, as I sobbed. I couldn't find enough energy to make a noise. I screamed without sound.

I felt myself grab the small pencil on my floor and tear at the wallpaper. I had to draw what I was seeing, the voices were making me. I drew my mother, she was holding my brother. Cynthia had been born and was in the cradle.

I fell to the ground, exhausted. The pencil dropped from my hand and clattered across the wooden floor. I mustered enough energy to crawl to my mattress on the floor, curl up in my blanket, and rest. I had to cry myself to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Mary Alice Brandon: A Life of Loneliness and Pain**

I rocked Cynthia in her cradle as I put another cold cloth on Charles' forehead. He had the fever, like most of the town. He was taking short, quick breathes. I knew he was dieing, but I would do everything in my power to keep him alive.

Cynthia started to cry, and I picked her up. I didn't want her to be here, but with Charles' sick and Cynthia a newborn, I had no choice. There was an awful scraping coming from the back bedroom. Why couldn't Mary be sick? Why did it have to be my beloved son? Even if Mary didn't die from the fever, it might burn the evil demons from her. She could be a normal child.

There was a quick knock on the door, probably my husband back from the town meeting. I set Cynthia down in her cradle and went to the door. My husband was standing outside, along with half a dozen other men. "What are they doing here with you, John?"

"We have come for Mary; she must be the cause of this awful disease. Once she is gone, Charles and the rest of the town will be rid of it."

I didn't agree, but the chance to save Charles was too great. I nodded and stepped aside. They went to the closed bedroom door and John unlocked it. I went to Charles and held him as the men grabbed Mary and took her out the door. As Mary went past me I felt Charles go limp, he was gasping for the tiniest bit of air.

I knew he was dieing, and it only happened because Mary was in the room. I loved her because she was my child but I was glad she was gone for the fate of the town. As the door shut after the men, Charles took one last breath and was gone to me forever. I wept, for I had lost two children in one day.


End file.
